


Comp(l)ete with You

by belncaz



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aomine Daiki Being an Idiot, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kagami puts up with a lot of crap but it's okay in the end, M/M, Reconciliation, Romance, Sappy, Swearing, Very Implied, life crisis mode for Aomine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 01:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10400838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belncaz/pseuds/belncaz
Summary: When Aomine suffers a setback and is not allowed to continue training to be a police officer, he loses his way. Fleeing the city, he heads to the mountains to clear his head. After a month, Kagami has had quite enough and goes after him.





	

A/N: This is super sentimental, but I just really want these children to be happy. Hope you like it!

Comp(l)ete with You

* * *

 

Aomine Daiki sat on a rocky ledge with his back propped against the mountainside and as he stared listlessly down at the valley that was slowly coming into view as the morning mist receded. In one hand, he loosely held a stocky tumbler filled with an amber liquid that swirled around inevitably melting ice cubes doing their best to keep the drink chilled against the summer’s heat. The other hand was tucked against his stomach, fingers slightly splayed over the soft cotton of his black shirt. He was only twenty-six but his expression and posture lent him the air of someone easily twice that age. He was brooding, and anyone observing him would assume the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

He’d been coming out to witness this scene every morning for weeks, not yet ready to admit how seeing the solitary vista each morning felt as necessary as air to breathe. Aomine couldn’t explain exactly why he needed it, just that it had become an inexorable ritual for him.

It was quiet here, the sleepy mountain retreat he’d bought for next to nothing with his earnings from professional basketball wasn’t in a fashionable area and Aomine’s nearest neighbor didn’t even use his property during the summer.  He’d grown accustomed to the silence and so was startled by the soft interruption of his phone indicating he had an incoming call. He looked down at the display without interest and gave serious thought to not answering at all even as he saw Kuroko’s name flash across the screen. But as Aomine’s finger hovered over the decline button he sighed with resignation and pressed accept instead.

“Tetsu? What’s up?” His voice sounded slightly hoarse as if rusty from disuse, but he answered civilly enough.

After a quick exchange of greetings, Kuroko asked in his typically blunt fashion, “Aomine-kun, are you still in the mountains?”

His forehead furrowing in confusion, Aomine took a moment before replying. “Yes. Did I tell you I was here, Tetsu?” He’d been there almost a month, but he’d left without telling anyone where he was going – only that he’d return when he could.

The amusement his friend was feeling came through splendidly. “Of course you didn’t, Aomine-kun. But you weren’t at your apartment and you didn’t go to the beach, so that left the mountains.”

Aomine’s lips lifted in a half smile before it was too much effort and his face relaxed. “A creature of habit you mean?”

Although he couldn’t see it, Aomine could imagine Kuroko’s shrug as he answered, softly and with a note of sympathy, “I am not implying anything. I am simply calling to tell you that Kagami-kun is on his way. He’s leaving in thirty minutes, it’s up to you if you’re still there by the time he arrives.”

He couldn’t even summon a single iota of surprise. “Ah. Is the warning for my sake or his?”

Kuroko’s reply held a hint of reproach, “Aomine-kun, I am not taking sides. I called to tell you what I knew, what you do after that is your own decision.” He hesitated as if debating saying something else before continuing, “Maybe it’s for both of you. I hope you will wait for him.”

The call ended shortly thereafter, neither of them were much for idle chatter. His mission accomplished, Kuroko offered a goodbye and a quiet note of encouragement. Aomine mumbled something in reply but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. He stuffed his phone into his pocket with a motion that was equal parts frustration, anger, and nervousness.

Wait for him. Wait for Kagami. That phrase, so innocuous it should be already forgotten, was resounding through his mind with relentless, nagging persistence.  He took another sip of his drink, the rivulets that had collected on the surface ran down his fingers. He transferred the tumbler to his free hand, wiping away the moisture on his shirt.

He heard the collective sounds of nature carrying on its business around him – the rustle and calls of animals on the move, the wind teasing leaves into a dance of erratic rhythm, the soft cadence of the river nearby – all of it indifferent to the dilemma Aomine faced. He sat his glass down, wedged into a makeshift support of some nearby pebbles. His eyes closed as his head fell back against the solid presence of the mountainside. He drifted, not sleeping, but just keeping his mind empty and not dwelling on the eventuality of Kagami's arrival.

Somehow, far more quickly than it should have been – testament to the fact Kagami probably hadn’t obeyed all the traffic laws on the way there – Aomine heard the measured pace of footsteps coming his way. He managed to open one eye just as Kagami's long legs stopped next to him, Aomine followed them upward to look into the other’s face.

Kagami’s expression was unusually blank, perhaps he’d been taking lessons from Kuroko. He didn’t say a word, just dropped to sit next to Aomine. His eyes took note of the drink and without asking he scooped it up and took a healthy gulp. He made a disbelieving grimace as the taste registered and he shook his head.

“Sweetened tea? You don’t even have the decency to wallow in liquor like most self-respecting assholes?”

Aomine gave a lazy half-shrug. “It’s my pity party. I’ll have whatever I damn well feel like.” His retort lacked heat and that more than anything told Kagami that despite the apparent sobriety, he was anything except okay.

There wasn’t much room to blame him, really. Aomine had been handed a raw deal when he’d been dismissed from the police academy. He’d been a good recruit but an injury acquired during training had made him miss some of the classes. He’d put in an application to have the absence considered a hiatus and filed a petition to resume training once he healed – his instructors had enthusiastically endorsed it. Despite that, Aomine’s request had been summarily denied. It had been politics; the new chief didn’t like Aomine’s background as a former professional basketball player. He’d taken a dislike to Aomine at first sight and while his tone had been professional when telling Aomine his decision, the slight smirk that played at the edges of his lips had been anything but objective.

Aomine was at something of a loss. He'd had several excellent seasons playing professionally, but he'd left to pursue another dream – policework. And now he didn’t know what he wanted to do. He’d been informed all future applications to attend the academy would be denied, he just wasn’t a good fit apparently. He’d have to relocate to another district, and that would mean upsetting the life he – they – had.

Kagami scowled as he looked out at the same scenery that Aomine had been finding solace in. He didn’t have anything against the outdoors, but he resented that he’d been inadvertently forced to trek this far into the wilderness to find Aomine. He spoke without turning his head to find the other’s gaze, “You left.” It was a statement of the obvious, but it meant more and they both knew it.

Aomine hadn’t just left. He’d left Kagami. Aomine had felt simultaneously trapped and aimless back in Tokyo. He couldn’t stand the way everyone was tip-toeing around him, trying to offer sympathy and hackneyed advice. He’d felt himself fighting to not snap at their well-meaning efforts, but it had irritated him. His life wasn’t over, he just needed some time. He’d gotten away as fast as he could, rebuffing even Kagami’s company.

Aomine hadn’t come out there to be around others so he didn’t rush to reply. Kagami’s words seemed to hang there between them, accusing and concerned, waiting for Aomine to address them. He didn’t, not exactly.

“Why are you here, Kagami?” It was flat, detached, and the curiosity of the question was more automatic than sincere.

Kagami’s impressive eyebrows shot up. “Why am I here? Why wouldn’t I be here? My asshole of a boyfriend walked out over a month ago without telling me he was going. Just a generic text that you needed some time? Where the hell did you think I'd be once I knew?"

Aomine knew Kagami's anger was warranted, but he was honestly having a hard time working up the energy to care.  “Well congratulations, you found me.” He was already closing his eyes again, as if he couldn’t be bothered with anything else. It was so reminiscent of his attitude before the Winter Cup their first year of high school that it scared Kagami.

Frustrated, Kagami moved to shove Aomine but even as lethargic as he appeared, Aomine's reflexes were nothing to sneer at. He caught Kagami's hand before it made contact, peering at him with one eye.

"I'm not in the mood to talk, Kagami. I didn't ask you to come here. If that's upsetting to you then you can leave." His expression stayed humorless and he released Kagami's hand. "Or," he continued with a mean laugh, "you can let me fuck you. That's about all I have the energy for. Otherwise I don't think you're going to get anything out of this visit."

Kagami stilled, unable to truly process Aomine’s words. Aomine was not above a crude remark, he really never had been. But that dismissal, as if Kagami had no real place in his life apart from being a warm body cut through him with a sharp, painful chill. His reaction, when it came, was to stand up and stare down at Aomine.

"I'll wait at the house."  It was all he said and he neither expected nor received an acknowledgment.  But as he walked away, Kagami had every intention of taking this up again later.

Aomine heard the words but gave a mental shrug. If Kagami wanted to be a glutton for punishment it was none of his business. Aomine had told the other man as clearly as he could he wasn't good company. He resumed his near-napping state, letting the sun pass over him to mark the time.

He didn't get up again until long after his drink had grown hot and the angle of the light had changed to the brunt of midday. He stood and lightly brushed off the worst of the debris that he had collected on his clothes. Although Aomine did not feel particularly motivated to return to the house, especially knowing Kagami was there, he didn't care enough to stay away either.

Aomine collected the cup that held his tea – tipping out the remainder with a negligent movement. He wandered back to the house, slow and unhurried. Aomine registered that Kagami's car was parked in the drive, a sleek, powerful red sportscar that suited its owner well. Sighing, he traipsed over to the door and toed off his shoes at the entryway. He didn't bother putting on indoor shoes, just proceeded along barefoot. 

Aomine's nose immediately registered two things: first, Kagami had cleaned. Second, he was cooking.  Aomine hadn’t exactly been living in squalor, but he’d not paid particularly close attention to many of the routine chores that he should have. Now it smelled brighter, fresher, and the difference irritated Aomine. He hadn’t asked Kagami to come here and take away his perfectly good moping atmosphere. The food smelled comforting though, something like a quickly charred meat and noodle mix. He also caught the sweet, clean aroma of freshly cut watermelon. His stomach rumbled sluggishly. He hadn’t been eating very well the last month – not that he’d gone hungry, but he’d mostly relied on take away meals that he bought at the convenience store in town.

Kagami heard him come in and yelled from the kitchen, “Take a shower and then we’ll eat.”

Aomine grumbled his annoyance but he didn’t deny that he probably needed one. He padded through the dwelling, noting irritably that he could see signs of Kagami’s handiwork everywhere. But soon enough Aomine had showered and changed clothes, taking the time to throw what he had been wearing in the laundry hamper – not a step he’d been consistently bothering with.

He walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, Aomine could hear Kagami moving around as he worked on something. When Aomine reached the doorway he slumped against it, amazed Kagami had the energy to be so productive. He was tired and would freely admit he hadn’t done a damn thing to warrant it.

Sensing Aomine was there, Kagami said only “Get whatever you want to drink, I’m just taking this to the table now.”

Grunting something that passed for an acknowledgment, Aomine pulled his choice from the refrigerator before joining Kagami at the table.

Kagami had already plated two servings and waited until Aomine took his seat before he started eating. He wasn’t standing on much ceremony right now with Aomine’s temper on such prominent display.

The meal passed in silence. Kagami was still seething over Aomine’s earlier flippancy and Aomine was sullen and stubbornly refusing to make himself be more pleasant. The stillness was broken only by the sounds of their eating – they did not even make eye contact.

When he was done, Kagami got up and cleared his plates, taking them to the sink to start cleaning. Although he didn’t entirely understand why, this pissed Aomine off. He finished his meal with a few angry motions, not paying attention to the skillful preparation of the dish. He got up and took his own dishes, aggressively dumping them into the sink while Kagami was already scrubbing.

Although he raised an eyebrow, Kagami said nothing, merely continued rinsing.

Aomine was furious. He knew he was behaving badly, why wouldn’t Kagami call him on it so Aomine could throw him out in righteous indignation? As it was, he couldn’t exactly complain when Kagami had cooked a meal and was now washing up. Or at least, he shouldn’t. Aomine, however, was not a person that necessarily obeyed social conventions.

“You’re being awfully domestic, Kagami. Quite the housewife. Did you miss me that much?” It was cold and taunting.

Kagami stiffened but he very precisely finished the dish he was washing and shut off the water before he turned toward the ill-tempered man next to him. He dried his hands on a towel and shot an irritable look of his own.

“For someone that seems to have forgotten even the most basic tenants of self-respect, you have a high opinion of yourself all of a sudden.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why should I be impressed by this temper of yours when you didn’t have the decency to face me before you ran away?” Kagami’s rejoinder was mocking in return, and held the same anger that had seethed in Aomine.

Aomine’s sneer indicated he didn’t seem especially concerned with Kagami’s accusations. “And yet you’re here. Why’s that, Kagami? You need something from me?” He made a vulgar motion with his hand and hips, something he’d picked up during his time playing against international teams.

Kagami stared at him with hard eyes. “You’re the one that keeps mentioning it. If sex was that important to you then you shouldn’t have come to the middle of nowhere. I’m not inclined to indulge you when you’ve been such an ass the whole time I’ve been here.” He made a dismissive motion and turned back to the sink.

Aomine’s reflexes were legendary however and he’d moved in close to cage Kagami against the counter from behind, his hands going to Kagami’s hips with unerring accuracy. “You’re right, I’ve been a poor host. Let’s see if I can indulge you instead.” He didn’t wait for Kagami’s protest, instead he wedged just enough room to quickly unfasten the closure of Kagami’s pants and slipped a hand into his boxers with an aggressive stroke that would have hurt if he’d been any less careful, but trod the line with a familiarity established long ago.

Kagami’s hands clasped the counter in reaction but then his astonishment faded into something far less acquiescent – he was pissed that Aomine kept trying to derail him this way. To make his point, Kagami threw his elbow back into Aomine, hard enough that it was clear he didn’t care if Aomine was hurt. When Aomine released him in response to the pain, Kagami turned around and shoved the other male, glaring unsympathetically at Aomine’s wince and quickly refastening his pants.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Aomine? This has gone on far too long, so you were handed a raw deal, get over it! It’s not the end of the world. You have options, you have friends, and god help us both, you even have me. Is there really _nothing_ worth hanging on to in any of that?” Kagami’s own bitterness and frustration were clear.

Getting his wind back, Aomine scowled at Kagami.  “What do you know about it? You didn’t get kicked out of the fire academy, did you? How the hell can you tell me a damn thing about options when yours have gone through without a hiccup?”

Kagami sighed and ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling very tired. “Aomine, you’re a fucking idiot.” He crossed his ankles and leaned back against the counter, pressing his hands into his pockets as if he feared doing violence to Aomine should they be kept free. “You’ve been here a month and that’s as far as you’ve thought about any of this?”

Aomine felt a flash of irritated embarrassment and it made him want to lash out in response. Gritting his teeth, he managed to say, “You don’t understand. What the fuck do I have to offer now? I can’t compete like this and it’s driving me crazy.”

Kagami stared at him for a long moment. The silence was instantly uncomfortable and Aomine clenched his hands, refusing to back down.

When Kagami spoke, it was quiet, heavy with something like understanding. “Compete however you want. Be a private detective. Try out for the firefighters’ academy. Take up fencing. I don’t care. Just come back.” He gave a little crooked smile. “Compete with me if you need to. See which of us has a heart attack first because of the other’s stupidity.”

Aomine stared at him in shock before letting out a harsh, surprised laugh. “Just like that?”

Kagami shrugged. “For now. Nearly anything is better than this.” He waved to indicate the house and Aomine’s mood in general. “You don’t want to prove that asshole is right, do you? That you lose focus at the first sign of trouble? That you’re just a pretty boy there to take it easy?”

It was said quietly, gently even, but it was all the more devastating for it. Aomine felt the words as if they’d been punched into him and he had to shake his head as if to clear it.

“Low fucking blow, Kagami.”

The redhead sighed. “Aomine, think of it this way. You can’t reapply while he’s in charge, but hell, does it even _have_ to be that division? We can move to another area. You had plenty of support from your instructors, I am sure that would carry weight with admitting you to another academy.”

Aomine froze, staring into Kagami’s eyes in disbelief. “Move? Are you serious?”

That incredulity made Kagami angry in its way, _he_ wasn’t the one that had split and run after all. But Kagami reined in his temper. “Why not? There are academies all over the place. People need police officers everywhere. Firefighters are in similar demand, there’s no reason we can’t start over if you want to try again.”

Aomine didn’t know what to say. Someone had mentioned this to him before but he hadn’t been willing to mention it to Kagami. Aomine knew Kagami liked his coworkers and was happy with his career. As miserable as Aomine had been, he hadn’t been quite willing to drag Kagami that deep.

Seeing Aomine’s struggle, Kagami shook his head and pushed away from the counter. He walked forward until there was barely room to see light between their bodies, wrapping his arms around Aomine and burrowing his head into Aomine’s neck. He stayed there for a moment, silent, and simply breathed in the smell that always seemed to cling to Aomine – something wild and deep.

Turning his head to speak against Aomine’s skin, Kagami’s voice was strained, “The apartment doesn’t matter, we’ll get another one somewhere else if that’s what you need. But this has to stop. Because I need you, Aomine. So we’ll fix it. Just stop shutting me out.”

Aomine listened, really listened, to Kagami in that moment. It wasn’t the heat of an argument or the teasing of their banter, it was something they rarely used with each other. It was more-than-truth, it was a confession hidden in a plea, and Aomine didn’t quite know what to say. So he responded in a way he did know how to handle.

He drew his arms up and embraced Kagami in return, squeezing him with a tightness that was part hope, part apology, and part need. His head moved and he found Kagami’s mouth with an unerring accuracy, claiming his lips in a hungry kiss that held none of the traces of bitterness from before. He wasn’t touching Kagami out of anger now, and it made all the difference.

The change was one Kagami understood, welcomed, and returned.  They made their way down the hall in a clumsy, fumbling shuffle that was more about reluctance to break apart than lack of coordination. But there were no more words then, just exhalations and gasps with the odd growled triumph thrown in for good measure.  And then Aomine was over him, inside of him, and it was not difficult to remember how well they matched each other here.

When it was over and there was barely energy left to think, Aomine muttered something that Kagami would hit him for later. Much later, once he got his strength back.

“So you did miss me, after all.” Not a question this time, but a smug affirmation that still somehow held gratitude.

Kagami made a noise that was somewhere between disbelief and protest before giving up and just resting, exhausted, next to the idiot that was for some unknown reason, perfect for him.

They returned to Tokyo the next day and met with their friends a short while later to explain their plans. Aomine’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the exchange of money between Kise and Kuroko and he demanded an explanation at seeing Kise’s miserable expression.

Kuroko smiled innocently. “I knew Kagami-kun would get through to you. Kise-kun and I simply had a small wager on that eventuality.”

Aomine scoffed. “I thought you weren’t taking sides, Tetsu?’

Kuroko fanned the array of bills with a satisfied wave. “Is it taking sides to bet that you’re happier together than apart? My apologies. I was taking sides then.” He didn’t sound the least bit contrite. It was difficult to blame him.

Akashi’s mild agreement, “Kise, you should have known better. None of the rest of us were so foolish as to accept Kuroko’s bet” was all he said before taking a small sip of his drink as if to emphasize his point.

Aomine debated getting mad at Kuroko, but Kagami was squashed next to him in the booth at Maji Burger and he had to admit Kuroko’s logic was sound. It had just taken him a while to realize it for himself. He let it go. He was happier than he could remember being in a long time, and Kuroko’s smug assurance over the turn of events was a small enough price to pay. Aomine shot a look at Kise though.

“You were betting against me, Kise? I’ll remember that the next time we’re on the court.” He smiled and it was not quite a cheerful expression. Perhaps the fact they were due to play streetball in the next twenty minutes added to the slight look of regret that crossed Kise’s face.

Kagami’s laugh was followed by, “Don’t worry Kise, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of chances to bet against him in the future.”

It took Aomine a moment to realize Kagami had insulted him but there was too much laughter, too much comradery and care, to spoil it with irritation when he wasn’t even truly upset.

He simply cocked an eyebrow at Kagami. “You’re on Kise’s team for this next game.” The threat was clear.

Kagami grinned. “Look who’s ready to compete again. Fine, bring it on.”

It was confrontational and competitive to be sure, but it was everything about them that worked. It was a recognition of a competitor that could handle themselves against one another, someone that made the game worth playing, someone that completed the picture. It was the way they thrived best, and thankfully, that was back on track now. They didn’t know any other way to be, and happily, they didn’t need to.


End file.
